Still here, just sitting wondering where that week went; again. On the plus side, global warming seems to have finally kicked in. It’d be
very pleasant if we weren’t being constantly reminded that we’re all doomed eh?
I see that there are more ‘plans’ afoot to deal with the flood of gimmigrants. Listening to these ‘ideas’
always gives me paws for thought, thus this:
This island is blessed{?} with several security services is it not. We’ve got wot, MI5, MI6, some secret services, several levels of policing, the SAS and who knows wot else is
lurking beyond our knowledge. And all those script kiddies hacking/checking/monitoring the Interweb and phones eh? With all that, they want me/us to believe they can’t find the bad boys charging big bucks for
a trip to the UK? Let’s not forget they also receive upwards of two hundred possible witnesses to try to break most daze.
And all those security and spy types can’t figure out the supply chain involved
with the rubber boats? Do they believe us down here really are all utter nutters?
However, wrongly gender your woke neighbours cat in the garden one morning and your door will be beaten down by a bunch of bobbies before
bedtime. But that’s just getting ‘our’ priorities right, right?
To end on a slightly lighter note, this morning my little nest of vipers was busy in the kitchen when she came into the sitting-room
where I was sitting trying to think of all I’d achieved this past week and coming up blank and dispatched me to the shop for items she’d forgotten to get.
Having located said items and checked out, I was
putting the last item in the carrier when the next customer, a youngish fellow, moved forward and enquired of the cash-out lady - sorry, person if they’d got a bag they could have. I spoke up quickly telling the fellow
I had one he could’ve had but, sadly, she stayed at home today. That seemed to cheer up those in earshot so I went wendingly on my way.
Quote; John F. Kennedy.
“The ignorance of one voter in a democracy impairs the security of all.”
2 comments:
Inspector Lestrade of the Yard would have them in the clink before having brunch with Holmes. Then they could get down to the serious business of your feline abuse. Sadly, those fine sleuths and upholders of the law are fictional, like everything else in this novel we call life. Living in a book, sounds like song title.
Andy5759,
So true, living in a book you say, so true and we'll never know of the author will we.
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